


Thunder and Lightning Kind of Love

by QueenGremlin



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Hickies, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Takes Care of Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Riding, sex during thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenGremlin/pseuds/QueenGremlin
Summary: "His fingers practically danced along the neck of the lute, long, slender, and absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Nails kept short and neat, so his fingers never grew sore from playing, and the pads rough with years’ worth of calluses. Geralt’s mind wandered to remembering the feeling of them, his fingers rough against his skin, pressing into his shoulders to work on a knot that developed from multiple days of travel without much rest, digging into his thigh and hip to steady himself as he- Geralt shifted on the bed and cleared his throat lightly. He shouldn’t think about that at the moment. Not that he couldn’t act on the thoughts- he could if he wanted now that he and Jaskier were a couple of sorts, but Jaskier was working. He shouldn’t disturb that."OrGeralt watches Jaskier practice and gets incredibly horny.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 220





	Thunder and Lightning Kind of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SaltyCalm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyCalm/gifts).



> Hello all.
> 
> This is a fic that my friend asked me to write! I hope you all enjoy it. 
> 
> please feel free to leave lotsa comments and kudos so let me know what you think! :)

Thunder and Lightning Kind of Love

Had he been traveling alone Geralt would have kept trekking on during the brewing storm, would have set up camp in a dry cave with Roach, and would have waited it out, but he wasn’t traveling alone anymore. He had a companion that forced his way into Geralt's life, and no matter what Geralt did said companion seemed to cling to him for dear life. He had always convinced himself he was better off alone, and that he didn’t need friends or lovers. Frequent trips to local brothels often satisfied his needs, but then he meant Jaskier. Suddenly the trips to the brothels left him unsatisfied, and then he stopped frequenting them, finding that he would rather stay at the tavern and watch Jaskier perform. 

He wasn’t really sure why he allowed Jaskier to stick with him for so long, or why he slow became used to him being around. The bard always was able to roll with his punches, nurtured him when he didn’t deserve soft touches and kind words, and he defended Geralt with a fierceness that scared even Geralt. He played for a room and food for them, spent his coin on gifts for him, and massaged his aching muscles after a long day of fighting off whatever monster he was contracted to kill. Jaskier was a force that came into his life and improved it immensely. When he really thought of it, it was clear that Jaskier was the first human to show him kindness, and Geralt punched him for it. Jaskier  _ still  _ didn’t leave, and he had assumed that’s why he kept Jaskier around. He was stronger and braver than the average human.

It wasn’t until after that terrible day on the mountain hunting for that fucking dragon; after Geralt had said all of those harsh things, and Jaskier still took him back. He realized that he didn’t just like the bard’s resilience- he genuinely  _ liked  _ Jaskier. Of course, Geralt had to swallow quite a bit of his pride when he came for Jaskier a year after he more or less told him to fuck off, Jaskier full of anger and hurt, and Geralt swore that smell of bitter anger and sour hurt would never leave Jaskier. It did. It took some groveling and Geralt learning how to use his words, but the smell did eventually go away.

Thunder rumbled, Geralt glanced away from his book to look out the window and watched the rain slap against the window creating a thrum of gentle patter that almost harmonized with Jaskier’s practiced lute playing. He was at the desk that was across the room. He was in the perfect spot for Geralt to watch him work- or pretend to be reading. Jaskier was writing a new ballad- sickeningly sweet with poetry that was sure to move the future audience to tears. He would hum the melody and pluck out the chords that seemed to fit, and then quickly would jot it down.

Geralt had been trying to read a book Jaskier had got him not long ago. Yet, he couldn’t focus with Jaskier sitting not far from him looking so exceptionally beautiful. He was nearly naked with his doublet abandoned on the floor and his trousers on, but laces undone for whatever reason. He smelled of lavender from the previous night’s bath. The smell of the storm’s spring rain and lavender smelled heavenly and Geralt considered it may be one of his favorite smells. He sighed and tossed the book to the floor and decided to get comfortable on the bed to watch his bard work.

Jaskier was in the “zone” as he called it. Unaware of what was happening around him, lost in the music and lyrics he was composing, and it really was the most beautiful thing Geralt had ever seen. Geralt tucked his arms behind his head, crossed his ankles, and let a long sigh out from his nose. Jaskier didn’t notice.

His fingers practically danced along the neck of the lute, long, slender, and absolutely mesmerizing to watch. Nails kept short and neat, so his fingers never grew sore from playing, and the pads rough with years’ worth of calluses. Geralt’s mind wandered to remembering the feeling of them, his fingers rough against his skin, pressing into his shoulders to work on a knot that developed from multiple days of travel without much rest, digging into his thigh and hip to steady himself as he- Geralt shifted on the bed and cleared his throat lightly. He shouldn’t think about that at the moment. Not that he couldn’t act on the thoughts- he could if he wanted now that he and Jaskier were a couple of sorts, but Jaskier was working. He shouldn’t disturb that.

Only, his cock clearly disagreed twitching in needed interest. His eyes drifted back to Jaskier’s hand, fingers spread to make a chord on the lute’s neck, and his mind began to wander again. Thinking of other ways Jaskier could use his perfect lutenist fingers. He rolled his eyes and huffed as he tugged at his trousers in annoyance. He really  _ shouldn’t  _ interrupt Jaskier’s work. Not that Jaskier would mind, no, but still it was a matter of respect. Jaskier never bothered him while he practiced his sword stances or while he was meditating.

That being said. His fingers were just so fucking gorgeous. His hands were gorgeous. Was that weird? Geralt couldn’t really find it in him to care if it was weird. Geralt sighed again only it came out like a small pitiful groan and tugged at his trousers again. “Somethin’ giving you a little trouble, hm?” Jaskier asked. Geralt looked at Jaskier- well -forced his eyes away from his hands and to his face. He was wearing that sly fox-like smile. A smile he wore when he was beginning to tease Geralt. “Well maybe not  _ little _ , but still giving you trouble?”

“Fuck off,” Geralt grumbled and shifted on the bed again. Jaskier chuckled as he set his lute to the side and leaned back in the chair.

“Is that what you want?” Jaskier asked. He raised an eyebrow, his sly smile formed into a smirk. Jaskier pushed himself up from his chair and went to the end of the bed and glanced at Geralt’s feet and then looked back at his witcher expectantly. Of course, Geralt caught on and uncrossed his ankles and spread his legs slightly so Jaskier could fit between them. “I think,” Jaskier said slowly his accent thicker than usual, and he laid his weight on Geralt and placed his hands on either side of Geralt’s head and hovered above him. “You rather me to not fuck off, and perhaps you would rather I give my dear White Wolf some attention.”

Geralt wanted to roll his eyes. He didn’t because he knew Jaskier was right- even if he didn’t want to admit it out loud. Jaskier rolled his hips easily creating friction between their clothed cocks. Geralt let out a small noise that could only be described as a needy whine as he bucked his own hips to rub himself against Jaskier. “You’d rather I  _ play  _ you and not my lute right?” Geralt only meekly nodded as Jaskier lazily rolled his hips again meeting Geralt’s buck. “I wonder,” Jaskier murmured as he gently pressed a kiss to Geralt’s ear. “I wonder if you’ll come just from my fingers.”

Gods. Geralt wasn’t known to be eager but he was already nodding in agreement to the beautiful idea. Jaskier sat up a little, a perplexed look on his face, and Geralt was confused. Jaskier never had to  _ think  _ about sex,  _ they _ never had to think about sex, and as most everyone they went along with the flow of things. “Hands and knees or on your back?” Jaskier asked. His nimble fingers were already on Geralt’s belly drawing gentle circles while Geralt tried to decide what he wanted- which was new. He was still new to this. After so many years of visiting brothels where he paid for company, where they rarely thought to ask him what he wanted besides a good fuck, and after so many years of having decisions made for him. It was always different with Jaskier. Geralt hummed.

Jaskier smirked. “You dirty bastard,” He chided and slapped Geralt’s stomach softly. “You wanna watch don’t ya?”

Geralt only managed to look away. Jaskier leaned down and kissed him, hand cupping Geralt’s chisled jaw, and tongue nudging his lips eagerly to be let in. Geralt never needed much persuasion, his mouth fell open, and Jaskier licked into his. The kiss was passionate with Geralt trying to regain some sort of control of the kiss, but failed against Jaskier’s excitement. “Where’s your belts?”

“Wha-”

“Belts, love, your belts. Perhaps rope?”

His stomach twisted as soon as he caught on to his bard’s intentions. As usual, the words died on Geralt’s tongue and he only moved Jaskier to the side with far too much ease that caused Jaskier to chuckle and lean back on the bed. Geralt went to the saddle bags. “Fuck,” he murmured as he dug through them. Jaskier sighed and began humming a soft tune- one from the song he was working on earlier. “Don’t you dare pick up that lute,” Geralt growled.

He heard the very attempted sneaky sound of a lute being sat down and the bed sheets ruffling. Clearly Jaskier had gone back to the desk when Geralt wasn’t looking. Finally, Geralt found two belts and quickly went back to the bed and presented them to Jaskier. “Alright, Witcher. On your back.” Jaskier said with an authority that made him a lot more turned on than it should have. Geralt easily obeyed. Jaskier then straddled his waist- being sure to tease him a little with a wiggle of his bum on Geralt’s crotch. Jaskier fastened the first belt and Geralt’s arm to the bedpost. Then he worked on the other just as quickly.

Belts, in reality, would never hold Geralt. He was stronger than the average man, but the couple had to make due. After having both belts fastened, Jaskier leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his lover’s lips and then whispered into his mouth, “let’s see if we can out do the thunder.”

As if on cue lightning flashed and a crash of thunder followed, the inn shook from the force of the sound, and rain began to pelt at the window. Jaskier kissed Geralt again, gently rubbing up Geralt’s arms feeling the muscles tense and relaxing under his touch, and he wiggled his ass again just to feel how hard Geralt was. “All this?” Jaskier mused with a glint in his eye. “From my practice?”

“Shut up,” Geralt huffed lowly. Jaskier kissed him again and then whispered.

“I knew you liked my singing.”

Jaskier quickly began multitasking in peppering hot trails of saliva slick kisses all over Geralt’s exposed neck and chest. Nipping at him along the way. Meanwhile; his hands were at Geralt’s trousers undoing the laces and buttons and then began pushing them off as his trail of kisses and hickies trailed down Geralt’s stomach. Geralt’s cock was hard and leaking precome- Jaskier really couldn’t help it when he looked up at Geralt through his dark lashes to lock eyes with his partner as he licked a bold stripe up the underneath of his cock and wrapped his lips around the head to collect the precome that leaked out. Then gave him a kiss there with a small smirk at Geralt’s moan.

“Let’s start then, love.” Jaskier practically beamed. He grabbed the chamomile oil from the drawer and slicked up fingers. “Relax for me, dear.” He said as his free hand gently massaged his calf and his slicked hand pressed a single finger against his hole. Geralt gasped, eyes wide, and pupils blown leaving only a ring of gold around them. He groaned as Jaskier pushed the first digit all the way in. “Keep going,” Geralt begged with a whirlpool of heat filling his belly from the pleasure that licked at him. His eyes fluttered shut. Jaskier laughed and worked his other hand further up his leg to his thigh.

“Don’t be greedy,” Jaskier scolded playfully pinching Geralt’s thigh causing him to hiss. Jaskier worked his finger in all the way, curling inside, and then pulling out only to repeat the action. Geralt was already withering on the bed, pulling at the belts on his wrists, and he couldn’t help the pitiful whine that escaped his throat. Jaskier loved it, wanted to figure out how to record that sound, and wanted to make a song out of it. It was glorious, it was like Jaskier was listening to angels, but alas it was just his witcher squirming beneath him and begging to be fucked by his fingers.

“Another, Jask. Another please,” Geralt begged, his breath was ragged and his gruff voice was pitchy. Geralt hips rolled his hips to try to ease the neediness of his cock wanting to be touched. He immediately ground his ass back. His breathing increased and his barely golden eyes were watching Jaskier’s every move in a desperate attempt to get Jaskier to have mercy on him and give him another finger. 

“I’ve got you,” Jaskier grinned down at Geralt, taking in the sight of his very needy witcher. His hand smoothed over Geralt’s thigh and he pushed in two more fingers causing Geralt to choke on a moan and arch up toward Jaskier. 

Jaskier was a musician first and foremost, music was in his bones, and it sang through his veins. Sex was no different. Jaskier was the composer and Geralt was his instrument of choice, and just like his beloved lute he figured out which chords created the best sounds. Creating melodies with his fingers deep inside his witcher, and adding just the right amount of pressure to get Geralt singing in deep baritones. Of course, traveling with his instrument- his muse meant that he knew all the tricks to get the  _ right  _ sounds. 

“You’re so good,” Jaskier whispered as he planted a kiss on his belly. “So good and needy,” He chuckled and nipped at his hip. “Love you like this,” Jaskier murmured as he kissed his other hip. “Begging for me. Begging to be fucked. Nobody else gets to see you like this hm?” Jaskier waz so close where Geralt wanted him- no needed him most. He whined and pitifully squirmed to wiggle his hips as he tried to tempt Jaskier. “Look at you,” Jaskier sat up with a wolf’s grin. “Melitele, you are one gorgeous bastard when trying to get attention.” Geralt groaned and nodded vigorously as he tried to control his breathing. 

“What do you want, my love?” Jaksier asked and then licked the trail of bruises to his right pec. He took an unexpecting nipple between his teeth giving it a light tug all the while never taking his eyes off his white wolf. Geralt arched off the bed again as he moaned and yanked at his restraints. 

“S-suck,” Geralt said. “Please, Dandy.” 

“You want me to suck on you?” Jaskier asked innocently and smirked as Geralt whined from the heat of the bard’s breath against his hard nipple. “Like this?” The nipple was in his mouth again. 

“Oh,” Geralt sighed but was shaking his head. Jaskier pulled away and furrowed his eyebrows just as he added a fourth finger causing Geralt to suddenly tense and eyes go wide. 

“Oh you mean suck you like this,” Jaskier nodded. His sucked on Geralt’s hip, creating a red mark, and still his fingers never stopped working and his eyes never left Geralt’s face. 

Geralt nearly lost it, blue eyes framed by dark eyelashes, mouth on him and hollowed cheekbones, and fingers stretching and scraping inside of him. Jesus- he was close. “Dandy, please,” Geralt whined and wiggled his hips again, giving a weak attempt at bucking up. 

“Oh,” Jaskier nodded but his smirk was still prompt. Jaskier went to Geralt’s thigh, biting into the muscle there, and began sucking and only stopping when Geralt groaned in annoyance. It only fueled Jaskier to continue being an absolute menace.

“Jaskier quit,” Geralt pleaded. Desperation lacing through his voice as he prepared to begin begging his lover to suck his cock. 

“Oh, if you’re sure,” Jaskier murmured and began to pull his fingers out only stopped when Geralt’s eyes went wide and his asshole quite literally clenched. 

“Don’t you dare.” 

“I think we’re having miscommunication,” Jaskier teased his free hand pressing his thumb into the forming bruise on his hip. Geralt hissed and lowered a glare at his lover. Jaskier only smiled at him and started to thrust his fingers back into his witcher. 

“Cock. Suck. Please,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier snorted and leaned down pressing a gentle kiss to his belly causing Geralt to groan again in annoyance. Jaskier flashed a grin and then took Geralt’s pulsing cock in one go, pushing down until he gagged and tears leaked from his eyes, and then pulled off only to repeat the action again. 

“Fuck, FUCK,” His hips jerked forward and his arms tugged against his restraints. Jaskier’s eyes were on Geralt, wide, blue, and tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he gagged on his cock. Geralt nearly lost it, wanting to grind back on the bard’s hand, and wanting to fuck into his mouth. “Jesus Christ, Jask.” Jaskier pulled off and began working a bright bruise on Geralt’s other inner thigh.

Above them, the thunder rolled louder and louder, seeming to grow in intensity with Geralt’s cries, and when his head lolled to the side he watched as the lightning flashed outside lighting the dark alleyway. He felt charged. Felt electricity running through his veins and the heat that Jaskier radiated constantly. It was all so much. The smell- gods the intoxicating smell that was Jaskier. Sweet lavender with the pepper smell of arousal mixed with the natural spring rain. It was all the factors that were driving Geralt closer and closer to his finish. 

Jaskier’s breath had grown more erratic too. Four fingers in Geralt now, thrusting into him as if he were railing him with his cock, and  Melitele’s tits was Geralt particularly gorgeous that stormy night. Every flash of lightning made his eyes glow brighter, more electric. Every slight rumble of the angry gods created harmony for the melody of Geralt’s gorgeous moans. All he wanted to do was give Geralt everything he desired, give him the moon and stars because no earthly possession was good enough, and Jesus, he wanted to hire a painter just so he could capture  _ this  _ look on Geralt forever.

Jaskier was composing the finale now, pushing Geralt closer and closer to his big finish, and Geralt was close, Jaskier could see it and hear it, his partner’s legs were shaking, his wrists rubbed raw from pulling against the belts that restrained him, and his muscles flexing and relaxing in easy motions that made Jaskier’s head spin. Jaskier bit harshly at his thigh- into the meaty muscle built from years of traveling, training, and riding various different roaches. Jaskier sucked, pulled away only to gently blow on it to ease the sure sting.

Geralt loved it. Gods he loved it. He  _ loved  _ Jaskier. Jaskier was down between his legs creating the closest thing to art he could without wasting coin and actually painting Geralt. He loved watching the bard work, flushed and sweaty face, with swollen, saliva slicked lips. His free hand was holding one of Geralt’s legs to the bed making sure he was spread open, he was vulnerable to Jaskier, and he knew that Jaskier had the power to break him in that moment. Had the power to kill him if he desired, and yet Geralt found himself not even scared. Not worried. No, the worst thing Jaskier would do was put him in ballet about how riviting their night had been. They trusted each other wholly, and that idea was possibly the hottest thing Geralt had ever really considered. He was finally loved, finally needed, and finally was vulnerable in one of the best ways possible.

And then his mind went blank as Jaskier angled his fingers just  _ right.  _ Brushing against that bundle of nerves that might as well have been a self destruct button. Geralt broke out of the restraints his arms pushing up against the head rest as he tried to fucking crawl out of his skin because he felt  _ so _ fucking good. His moans in a chant of Jaskier’s name. As if Jaskier was one of the gods himself and he was reciting a prayer. Jaskier glanced up and smirked, Geralt’s entire body tense, arms gripping the headboard for dear life, and even his toes curled as his heels dug into the mattress. His eyes were pinched shut and his mouth slightly open in a gorgeous ‘o’. Jaskier could come from just that. Just the fucking sight of his pleasure ridden witcher- the knowledge that he was the  _ only  _ one to see that, that he did that to his poor white wolf, and the noises- why he gave the thunder a run for its money.

“That’s it, dear heart.” Jaskier grinned as he leaned up to pepper kisses over Geralt’s Adam's apple. “Come for me, darling.”

Geralt could feel the heat coiling around him, could feel the ever growing pressure, and he swore his entire body was fucking shaking- quivering with the need to release. “Clo-close,” he gasped. His lungs were on fire, and it felt like all the air in his lungs left his body. He couldn’t breathe, but looking at the way Jaskier was so focused on pleasing him he didn’t really care. Jaskier perked up to his lover’s needs. Without stopping his hand he leaned up to capture Geralt’s attention. “I’m- I’m close, Dandy.”

“I know, baby,” Jaskier cooed. “Gotta breathe for me though,” Jaskier’s free hand left Geralt’s leg to gently stroke his cheek. “Relax and let go.” 

Geralt nodded and let out a shaky breath, his chest felt like he had a boulder sat on it, but the only thing he could really focus on was how good he felt. It was like he was hyper aware of his body, the way his fingertips and toes were tingling, the steady pulse of his heavy cock, and the way he felt as if he was being set on fire. “Breathe, honey, breathe through it.” Geralt’s breath went back to a quick but normal pace and Jaskier smiled down at Geralt. “That’s my good boy.”

Geralt fucking moaned. Nearly screamed. “Close close close,” Geralt ground his ass back and dug his nails into Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s eyes flickered up to Geralt and he pulled back and focused entirely on finger fucking Geralt. The witcher was so divine when he became undone. Sharp teeth visible,  _ uh uh uh _ spilling rapidly from deep in his throat, and shaking as if he had been struck by an earthquake. His eyes rolling to the back of his head as he let the euphoria of his climax take him into another realm. White hair plastered to his cheeks and forehead in a sweaty mess. “There!” Geralt cried his cock spasming as Jaskier had slightly shifted his hand. “Oh fuck!  _ Oh Gods! _ ” Geralt came streaking hot white strips over his stomach and chest.

Jaskier grinned at his love, satisfaction flooding through him, and pride coursing though his veins. He hadn’t come yet, and now that his sole mission to get Geralt off was finished he began to feel the ache in his own cock. He swallowed thickly carefully removing his fingers and swiped them on the bed as he slipped his pants off to free his own cock and quickly began to pump his fist around it. Geralt had come back from his other realm at the sound of Jaskier’s small moan, eyes glued to Jaskier, and Jaskier couldn’t help the sheepish giggle that bubbled up from him.

“Wanna help me out here, love?” Jaskier asked. Eyes still dancing with a glint of lust, and his voice still deep with seduction. Really? How could Geralt deny his heart? “C’mon don’t make me hump your damn leg like some wild beast!”

Geralt cracked a tired smile and sat up pulling Jaskier into his lap. Jaskier yelped into Geralt’s mouth as they kissed like a couple of lazy fools. “Lay down,” Geralt murmured. Jaskier did what he was told. Then it was Geralt straddling the bard- Jaskier thought he may come at just that. Geralt took a hold of Jaskier’s cock causing the bard to gasp his eyes widening and a moan fleeing from his parted lips. Geralt slid down on top of Jaskier’s cock and let out a pitiful noise from already being so sensitive. He rolled his hips, wiggling around to get comfortable, and Jaskier wanted to thank the gods that allowed witcher’s to have such quick stamina. 

His slender fingers gripped at Geralt’s hips, gripping so tight Geralt knew he would bruise, and that thought excited him to know he’d be marked by the bard. Geralt set an easy pace, a mixture of figure eights, and bouncing up and down on his partner’s cock. “Melitele’s tits, Geralt, how the fuck are you still so-” words died on his lips as a choked out moan pushed its way from his throat when Geralt pulled all the way off only to fall back on him. Jaskier’s eyes went impossibly wide and his mouth went slack.

Geralt looked beautiful riding him. Arms flexed and bracing himself against the headboard, abs flexing and relaxing with every breath and every figure eight, and his head fell forward slightly, golden eyes still nothing but a ring around his pupil. Jaskier could barely hold on as he wrapped an arm around Geralt’s waist, and the other bracing himself against the bed so he could easily match Geralt’s bounce with his thrusts. “Fuck,” Jaskier groaned as Geralt fell inaudible only moaning little  _ uh uh uhs. _

__

Jaskier’s orgasm ripped through his entire body as lightning struck the ground by the tavern, his arm giving out, and his breath hitching as he spilled into his witcher. Eyes only showing white as Geralt continued to ride him through his climax. Then Geralt’s second orgasm followed with a crack of thunder that made the entire inn shake. Geralt’s movements stuttered and he fell forward on his bard. Head on his shoulder and hands fallen next to him. Jaskier was breathing hard, his eyes glued to the ceiling as he felt his pulse slow back to a normal, and the weight of Geralt on top of him reeling him back to reality. “That was significantly more fun than practicing,” Jaskier muttered as he lifted a lead filled hand to card it through Geralt’s sweat matted hair. “You alright, love?”

Geralt only hummed still breathing rather hard. Jaskier hummed and began to work through the tangled bits of Geralt’s hair so they’d be easier to wash later, and he began to hum the melody he was working on earlier. “Take your time, sweetheart. Come back when you’re ready.” Jaskier began humming again. A few minutes later when the thunder rumbled, Geralt carefully got off of Jaskier and plopped down next to him. “I knew you liked my singing,” Jaskier chuckled. “Just didn’t know you liked it that much.”

“Shut up,” Geralt huffed. Jaskier rolled over into his side and tucked his arm under his head as the other gently stroked Geralt’s bicep with mindless circles. “We need to wash.”

“We do,” Jaskier nodded. Grabbed Geralt’s pants that were discarded to the floor and wiped the slightly dried come from Geralt’s chest. “Shall we visit the bath chambers? It’s your turn to ask the inn’s keep.”

“Can you do it?” Geralt asked. Jaskier chuckled and gave Geralt an annoyed look that held no real annoyance. “C’mon,” Geralt murmured as he scooted closer to Jaskier and nosed at his cheek to kiss his neck. “I’ll buy you that poetry book you saw in the market earlier.”

“Tempting,” Jaskier nodded and giggled as Geralt continued to kiss around his neck until he got to his nose and kissed it. “but it’s your turn to ask.”

Geralt hummed. “I will suck you off every night for a month.”

Jaskier’s breath hitched and his cock twitched in interest, but he held his ground. “C’mon it’s your turn, love.” 

Geralt sighed and narrowed his eyes at his lover, and finally Geralt sighed and gave Jaskier a smug look. “I’ll eat you out anywhere and anytime you want for a year.”

“You-” Jaskier stampered. Then he nodded and swallowed over the thick wall that formed in his throat. His cock twitched again in interest. “ _ fine _ . You win that one.” Geralt laughed (something he apparently did a lot with Jaskier) Jaskier rolled off the bed and pulled on his trousers and one of Geralt’s shirts. He leaned over the bed to peck Geralt’s lips, but when they were mere centimeters apart grabbed Geralt’s dick and squeezed. “I’ll hold you to your promise. The next time,  _ you _ ask for the bath.” Geralt’s breath hitched as Jaskier pulled his hand away in an agonizingly slow stroke.

“You’re a menace.” Geralt growled.

Jaskier grinned, “You’re the one that agreed to make me your menace forever.” Jaskier wiggled his ring finger in front of Geralt’s face to show off the silver band. Geralt grinned and grabbed his hand and kissed it.

The thunder rumbled and lightning flashed outside, Geralt watched Jaskier leave the room, and couldn’t wipe the giddy smile from his lips even if he tried. How he had gotten so lucky to end up with a man such as Jaskier he didn’t know. He had beaten the odds of most witcher’s quality of life, and he had fallen in love with a better man than he deserved. Better yet that better man loved him too, was asking if the bath was free and filled for them, and Geralt in a lot of ways didn’t deserve that kind of love. In other ways, he deserved it more than most. Nevertheless, it never changed that while Geralt was the deep rumble of the thunder, Jaskier was the bright, electric light of lightning, and everyone knew that where there was lightning thunder was bound to follow.


End file.
